by Lyssa Layne
Jules’ eyes narrow and she moves her hands to her hips. “Tell him yourself. You broke it, you fix it.”
Sighing, I nod. Fair enough, but I can’t, I’ll only make it worse. I step back to Jules and pull her into a hug. When I lean away, I look into her eyes as I speak. “I can’t fix it and I wish I could, Jules. Please take care of him for me.” My hand moves to hers and I give it a light squeeze. “And congrats on the pregnancy.”
Jules’ mouth drops and she stutters over her words, trying to object. I press her hand again, remembering Smitty telling me about Jules’ fear of being a mother. “Relax, you’ll do great. You’re a natural nurturer, your child will be lucky to have you, just like Smitty is lucky to have you as a friend. Please take care of him.”
Tears are in her eyes as she nods. I give her another hug and quickly run out of the bathroom. Glancing up and down the corridor, I don’t see Smitty anywhere in sight. With the coast clear, I make my way back to my seat. Less than twenty-four hours and there will be almost five-thousand miles between Jacob Smith and myself. Then I’ll be well on my way to getting over my own broken heart.
CHAPTER 21
Smitty
Reggae music plays softly over the speakers of my computer. It’s been almost a month since Bentley convinced me to fight for Sloan. I’ve done everything I can to find her, but I’ve hit a dead end. Still, I’m determined to not give up. I know Sloan is my future and we’ll find each other some way. In the meantime, I’ve surrounded myself with her. I have her picture on my desktop, a playlist from our vacation, and I check her website daily to find out when she’ll be back from “making healthier lives wordwide.”
Hunched over my drafting table, biting the side of my lip as I concentrate on the new set of plans I’m drawing, I hear the door to my office open. I glance up to see who it is and do a double take when I recognize her. Her face lights up and I straighten. When I walk toward her, she opens her arms to give me a hug. Smiling, I wrap my arms around her and pat her back.
“Smitty! How’ve you been?” Sissy asks as we release each other.
I point to the two chairs by my desk and we both sit down. “I’ve been…okay.” I’m not really sure how to answer that. I don’t want to sound pathetic by saying I’ve been searching for her sister, who obviously isn’t doing the same, but I don’t want to sound so nonchalant that she doesn’t think I’m still interested either. We make small talk, discussing her life as a newlywed and telling her more about my business until we hit a lull and neither of us can find anything else to discuss, except one topic.
Sissy fiddles with the hem of her dress then looks up at me. “Sloan, well, my whole family, would probably kill me if they found out I’m here, but I have to know. Is there…Do you want to see Sloan?”
I don’t care about looking desperate, I nod my head emphatically. “I’ve been searching for her, but her website and her office say she’s out of the country. Is she?”
Sissy pushes her lips together, trying to decide what to say before speaking. “She is. She’s in Italy with Cooper’s brother. This is what she does. When something bad happens, she runs. She says she’s able to clear her mind, think better when every day distractions aren’t around her.” Sissy shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe it works. Both times she’s come back from there and she is refreshed, rejuvenated, but I think this time is a cop out.”
I raise my eyebrow. “So Sloan and I being together was a bad thing?”
Sissy laughs and shakes her head. “No, not at all! That’s what I’m saying, the last two times she went were after the accidents. This time there was no accident. Fate brought you two together and I think she’s just running to Oliver because she’s scared. She’s scared that falling for you means she’s letting go of Cooper. She can’t remember what it feels like to love someone like that or to be loved and it frightens her.”
My heart skips a beat because I know exactly what she’s describing. Still, I can’t help but wonder what kind of relationship Sloan and Oliver have, but there’s something else Sissy says that has be even more perplexed. “What do you mean the accidents? I’m assuming after Cooper’s death, but what was the other accident?”
Sissy looks away from me, clearly avoiding eye contact. I lean forward and touch her hand. “Come on, Sis. Talk to me. I need all the help I can to get her back.”
Slowly, she redirects her attention to me and nods. “It’s not my place to tell you about the other one. Sloan will have to do that.”
“Okay, but how can I find her?” My heart races, waiting for Sissy to give me any info that will lead me to Sloan.
Sissy digs around in her purse and pulls out an envelope, handing it to me. “Her flight gets in early tomorrow afternoon. I told her I’d try to pick her up, but if she didn’t see me to grab a cab. I’m supposed to meet her at baggage claim.”
I tear open the envelope and my face breaks into a grin. Inside is the golden ticket to get my girl back. Sissy stands up and looks down at me. “Don’t push, let her take the lead. She’ll tell you when she’s ready, but don’t take no for an answer.”
Sissy squeezes my hand as she walks past me and out the door. I tap the envelope on the desk, my mind racing with scenarios of how our reunion will happen, what I’ll say, how she’ll react when she sees me. I run my hand over my scruffy beard that I haven’t bothered to shave since I left Jamaica. I’ve waited almost two months since I last saw Sloan, but somehow the next twenty-four hours will seem like an eternity.
Sloan
Red and orange streak across the sky creating the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. With that backdrop and the rolling hills of Italy, the view in front of me looks like it could only be created by an artist’s paintbrush. I lean back in my chair, sipping my wine, loving that this picture perfect view has ended each of my days for the past month.
“Enjoying the view, Mrs. Pennington?”
Smiling, I look over to see Oliver taking a seat beside me. Oliver is the only person who has ever called me by Cooper’s last name. He is in every way possible, the exact opposite of Cooper physically, but the two share the same loving, compassionate soul. While we never met while Cooper was alive, we were best friends from the start. He taught me so much about my husband that I never knew while he was gratified to hear about the love I shared with his brother. Cooper may have left me, but Oliver took over as my guardian when he did.
He pours himself a glass of vino and tops off mine. “So how are your clients coming along?”
I nod. “Fantastic. It’s one thing to try to coach and motivate someone over the Internet, but it’s totally different to do it face to face. They were all shocked to see me at their gyms and I’ve already seen so much improvement just in the month I’ve been here.”
Oliver stares at the setting sun and drinks his wine. Neither of us say anything as we enjoy the last rays of light. I watch the older Pennington brother, thinking about how not only looks-wise, but career-wise the brothers are different. While Cooper became an engineer and worked for the government, Oliver ran away to Italy to pursue his dream of being a vintner and ended up hitting it big. People flock from all parts of the world to visit his vineyard and buy his wine. It was Cooper, and his death, that motivated me to quit the corporate world and start my own boot camp in St. Louis, but it was Oliver who dared me to think outside the box, discover how I could make a difference in other people’s lives, and thus the healthy coaching side of my business developed. Majority of my clients were back home, but again, Oliver forced me to go bigger and I now have people I coach all over the U.S. and internationally as well.
“Are you ready to go home tomorrow?” Oliver asks, breaking my train of thought.
I shrug. This trip has been a nice escape from reality, but the feelings and the person I was trying to evade hasn’t left my memory. “Not really,” I answer.
“Are you ready to tell me the real reason for your visit?” Oliver asks, looking at me.
I take a deep breath. “
I met a guy.”
Oliver’s eyebrows narrow. “You met a guy so you ran away. Explain.”
Swallowing, I begin to tell him everything, starting with the flight to Jamaica. The guilt of loving someone other than Cooper, accepting that it was okay to move on, then finding out the man I was ready to open my heart to again was the man whose heart I had already broken.
I finish the story and Oliver reaches over, patting my hand. “Sloan, you know there’s a whole wide world outside of the Midwest. You are a captivating, kind hearted person and will be successful no matter where you are. You have touched so many lives positively and the possibilities of wonderful things you can do are endless. I think it might be a good idea for you to consider planting yourself somewhere other than where you currently call ‘home.’”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay. I’m thinking he’s on to something. I need to get away from my past, get away from the tragedies that surround me back home, but the thought of leaving my family breaks my heart.
Oliver stands and walks toward his house, but before he goes inside, he calls back to me, “I’ll keep the guest room open for the next few weeks if you want to think it over.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. I turn back to the pristine sunset, but it’s gone. As quickly as I looked away, it disappeared. Could a simple move across the ocean do the same for me? Erase the agony of my past and promise me happier days ahead?
CHAPTER 22
Smitty
I pace back and forth across the gray tile at Lambert International Airport. The screen above me says that Sloan’s flight should be arriving any minute. The blinking “on time” beside her flight number makes my stomach flip like I’m riding a roller coaster. Mix that with the smell of the roses I’m holding and I could lose my lunch at any time. Granted, I haven’t eaten since Sissy appeared in my office yesterday and I’m going on about four cups of coffee, not to mention I didn’t sleep a wink and needless to say, I’m a wreck.
I glance up at the screen again and now the “on time” has been replaced with “arrived.” The scent of the roses hits my nose again and I shake my head, trying to get the smell away from me when I realize, I don’t even know if Sloan likes roses. What if she has allergies? What if Cooper always gave her roses? I should throw them away. I push the trash can lid open and when I look up, I see Sloan making her way toward the baggage claim.
Despite a multi-hour flight, she looks stunning. She’s wearing a pair of cutoff jeans, complete with rips and strings, an oversized black and white striped long sleeve blouse that cuts into a deep V, but isn’t too revealing, and her long, honey hair falls over her shoulders. Slowly, I make my way toward her, cautious not to take her by surprise. She’s looking around, I’m sure for Sissy, and she doesn’t hide the shock on her face when she sees me.
“Smi…Smitty, what are you doing here?”
Glad I didn’t throw away the roses, since they give me a buffer, I thrust them at her and shrug. “I heard you needed a ride.”
She juggles her purse and her phone, dropping the latter in her bag and taking the flowers. “Thanks, but Sissy is supposed to pick me up.”
I scratch my forehead, closing one eye as I do, my heart thumping loudly inside my chest. “Um… I’m her replacement.”
Sloan’s nose scrunches and I relax. The familiarity of her mannerisms return and I remind myself to stay calm, don’t scare her off. I point to the baggage conveyor. “Which bag is yours?”
She nods at a bag on the carousel. “That black one with the pink ribbon.”
I pick it up and walk back to her. Placing my hand in the small of her back, I guide us out to my truck. Maybe it’s all in my mind, but Sloan seems to fall in step with me, her body close, but I long for it to be closer. Once in the truck, she gives me directions to get to her place and we’re on our way. The sounds of country music fill my truck.
I glance over at her, she’s staring out the window and her body is tense. At the stoplight, I reach over and flip her hand so her palm is upright. I keep my eyes focused on her hand while my fingers write R-E-L-A-X in her palm. When I finish I look at her and she’s biting her bottom lip. The car behind me honks as the light turns green. I lace my fingers through hers and give a quick squeeze, not letting go until we pull up in front of her townhouse in Soulard.
I put my truck in park and Sloan gets out on the passenger side. When I walk around to the sidewalk, I lift out two suitcases from my truck bed—the one she took to Italy and the pink leopard one from Jamaica. Her eyes get big when she sees the second bag.
“I didn’t know you— Thanks for bringing it back,” she mumbles.
Walking past her, I smile and brush my lips across her cheek, sending my heart racing. “No problem,” I say as casually as I can. Play it cool, Smitty, don’t blow this. Remember what Sissy said, let her take the lead.
Sloan lets us in the house, mumbling and rambling nervously as she apologizes for the mugginess in her house from the air conditioner being turned off. Her house isn’t what I expected, not that I’d really pictured anything specific. I guess I just figured that most women watch HGTV and try to replicate what they see in their own homes. I should’ve known better than to think Sloan would be like that. Still, her completely bare walls are sad, but then I remember how she told me her life with Cooper had to be erased, which explains the pictureless decor.
Still babbling about nothing in particular, she walks into the living room and runs smack into me as I inspect the one framed photo on her end table which ends up being a picture of her family. I grab her by the waist as she lets out an “oof” and I stare into her eyes. She finally stops talking and bites her lip instead. I move one hand to her cheek, running my fingers through her hair.
“I’ve missed you,” I comment, not sure what else to say, just overcome with that emotion.
She gulps and tries to step back, but I hold on to her firmly. “Can I…um, get you something to drink?”
Let her take the lead. I nod and let her go. She quickly spins on her heel and runs into the kitchen. I can hear her opening drawers and cabinets as she begins to chatter again. I follow her into the other room, leaning against the doorframe and smiling. She decides on two glasses and when she opens the fridge, I can see it’s completely bare.
“Umm…” she mumbles.
I walk behind her, sliding my arms around her and setting my chin on her shoulder. “How about you sit down and I can find something in here, okay?”
Sloan moves in my arms to face me. She pulls me into a hug and my heart soars at this, she’s breaking down the wall. I feel her bury her face in my chest and I stroke her hair. Her strawberry shampoo tantalizing me, her body fitting perfectly into mine… the time apart made me forget these little things, but just a few moments together and they all come flooding back, making me want her even more, but I know I can’t press.
Slowly, Sloan lifts her head to look at me, her arms slide around my neck. I lick my lips, tempted, but know I can’t force this. Sloan’s hand moves down my neck, her fingers walking their way up to my jaw, and rubbing my stumble. The smallest movement on her end has every nerve in my body on edge, wanting more than ever to have her again. Her hand continues to move until it’s fully behind my head, pulling me toward her.
“Sloan…” I whisper, not sure what I want in this moment. I know what I want, but I don’t know if it’s the best idea.
She responds by pushing her lips against mine. My heart is racing and I try to focus on the tick of the clock on the wall over the sink, because the rest of my body is ready to ravage her body. Her tongue flicks across the seal of my mouth and sends me over the edge. With one step, I push her against the counter, both my hands in her hair, gripping it tightly, and grinding my hips against hers. Sloan tilts her head and I open my mouth so that we can both deepen the kiss.
It is nothing short of amazing to feel her body again, her kiss, her touch, but I begin to pull away, hating myself for it. As much as this feels
good, feels right, this wasn’t what I was missing, this isn’t what I want. I want Sloan’s companionship, I want her friendship, I want our intimacy. Both of our chests are heaving as the kiss ends. I move my hands off her, knowing I won’t be able to truly stop if I don’t. I rest them on the counter on either side of her body. My head just inches away from her chest and her hand moves to my neck, lightly grazing it with her fingers.
“I missed you, too,” she says in a breathy whisper and my heart pounds even faster.
I move my lips to her collarbone and kiss it lightly. “Good. Now go rest and I’ll find us something to drink.”
Sloan’s hands move under my chin and she gives me a soft kiss before leaving the kitchen. I open her pantry looking for lemonade mix or Crystal Light, my hands shaking as I do. This is going much better than I expected, maybe Italy was a good thing. Let her clear her mind, decide she’s ready to move on, try dating again. A smile creeps over my face and I begin to whistle, still unsuccessful at finding anything to drink, but honestly, not caring at the moment. Sloan might be mine again by the end of the day.
I fill both the cups with water and walk back to the living room. My smile gets bigger as I see my sleeping beauty passed out on the couch. Taking both glasses back to the kitchen, I return and scoop her into my arms. I carry her to what I’m assuming is her bedroom, the clothes and shoes scattered everywhere give it away. Softly, I place her on the bed, taking off her shoes then I lie beside her. Immediately, Sloan snuggles up against me and I pull her close. This is how it was always meant to be, her and me together.
Sloan
I’m having the best dream and don’t want to wake up. In my mind, the past is nothing but a memory and I’m safely tucked against Smitty’s body. The images are too good to be true and I don’t want to wake up, but I have to. My body is stiff from the cramped space on my flight home and I need to stretch. Slowly, I open my eyes and see it’s dark outside, the clock tells me it’s already eight. I move my arms to stretch and I feel a body beneath my hand. Tilting my head up, I realize part of my dream is true.